


strange meeting

by miohko



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Coming Out, No beta we kayak like Tim, Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Other, Set in Season 1, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Martin Blackwood, very self indulgent i’m projecting a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:36:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27872409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miohko/pseuds/miohko
Summary: Martin has been stealth for years and is completely fine with keeping it that way. Then Jon decides to keep working at a ridiculously late hour, and both manage to lose their filter.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 12
Kudos: 229





	strange meeting

**Author's Note:**

> wh... what.... your none biney...... you got no binry.... that is so cool....

It was another late night in the archives.  
  
Another late night spent watching the clock.  
  
Alone.  
  
He had been sleeping on that stiff cot for quite a while now, but still hasn’t quite managed to get used to it.  
  
22:00  
  
23:00  
  
00:00  
  
He watched the time tick on. His mind was swirling with fears. A worm inching its way through the archives, slipping under his door, creeping closer to his bed, climbing, squirming, growing, feasting-  
  
As the small digital alarm clock flashes 1:00, he rolls out of the cot with a sigh. Maybe moving around will calm his thoughts down.  
  
Despite the long hours of archiving- or whatever an actual archivist may call it- Martin tries his best not to wear his binder for too long each day. Wearing it for a couple extra hours one day could leave his back hurting for the rest of the week, making binding even more bruising. His binder was off now, tucked into his pillowcase, and since everyone was home, he doesn’t have to worry too much. Just his own personal thoughts to worry about now.

Stumbling into the break room with the flickering of the broken ceiling light that was never fully switched on or off, he began to absentmindedly make tea. It wasn’t necessarily what he had been planning on doing, but he’d been working for the institute for months, and making tea for his friends and coworkers for almost just as long. It was instinct at this point.

  
The process was indeed calming him down, though. His eyes were half focused while he waited for the water to come to a boil. Then he heard it.

  
A faint thump, coming suspiciously close from the direction of Jon’s office. Martin just about leapt out of his skin.

  
_What could Jon be doing here this late?_

  
Working of course. Martin knew that. But still. It was 1 in the morning! This was the longest Jon had stayed since Martin had moved into the archives.

  
He could hear the creaky door knob to Jon’s office begin to turn, and it was then that Martin remembered.

  
He didn’t have his binder on.

  
Sure a massively oversized t-shirt could work wonders when one did not have their binder on, but around other people? Especially his strict, gorgeous boss? Martin had been stealth for years. No one at the institute knew he was trans. He didn’t want to out himself, especially like that.

  
So Martin, attempting to tip toe in hopes Jon wouldn’t hear him, runs back to his “room.” He desperately wraps a blanket around himself, hoping that Jon had not seen or heard him, but preparing just in case.

  
Silence.

  
But something was off.

  
Shit. The tea.

  
Martin had completely forgotten about it in his panic.

  
He didn’t know what to do. Jon was likely to notice the boiling water; they were perceptive like that. But he had likely also heard Martin too.

  
“-Martin?”

  
A voice cut into his panicked thoughts, right on the other side of the door, brusque, and always, tinted with annoyance. “Are you in there.”

  
Martin’s eyes widened. Jon had noticed him. Of course they had.

  
Defeated, Martin stood up to open the door, first making sure his blanket was clenched tightly in his hand yet loosely draped over his larger frame, an apology already on his lips.

  
Jon beat him to it.

  
“Sorry it's just that you… you had the stovetop on and I thought I heard you come back to your room even though the water was boiling which was weird because…”

  
Martin was shocked, too shocked to even try and listen to what Jon had to say.

  
His boss, _Jonathan Sims, head Archivist of the Magnus Institute,_ was rambling to Martin.

  
Finally, he attempts to cut into Jon’s little speech.

  
“Jon, it’s okay. I just had too…” he trailed off. Had to do what?? He’d been stealth for years. He wasn’t just going to out himself to Jon.

  
Jon seems to have recollected himself though. “Do what.” The monotone drone, with that faintest hint of annoyance, was back. It didn't even seem like a question.

  
Martin stumbled over his words, feeling his face begin to burn. “Uh- it's just that I don't have my binder o-“ he froze. He hadn’t meant to say that, _why had he said that_. It was too late to turn back now. “Yeah uh my binder and I…. I just don’t like being seen without it cau-“

  
“I know what a binder is, Martin.” His voice was still blunt, but there seemed to be a hint of something else in his expression. Nervousness maybe?

  
“Oh!” the taller man squeaked. Jon knew? How would Jon know? “So yeah I guess you uh… know-”

  
Martin learned on this night that Jon completely manages to lose their filter when they are up late and exhausted from work.

  
“I mean I know how much of a pain it i-" Jon starts.

  
This time they both froze.

  
_What???_

  
Surely Martin must have misheard Jon. He wasn’t saying he was trans too, was he?

  
After a moment of stunned silence, Jon sighs and sits on the cot, placing his head in his hands, as if embarrassed. Or nervous. Martin had always struggled reading their emotions. Martin gingerly sat on the other end of the cot.

  
After a minute of silence, they speak, but his voice is too quiet and muffled by his hands.

  
“What? Sorry, I didn’t hear.”

  
“He/they” they mumble, louder now.

  
Martin's eyes widened. Jon is trans too?

  
“He/him” he responds, a nervous smile on his face.

  
Jon finally looks up at him with a faint smile that Martin had never seen on them before. It was so soft, so affectionate, so comfortable, so beautiful-

  
Best not to get carried away with those thoughts.

  
The two sat there in a comfortable silence for a bit, both relieved and comfortable, until Jon stood up and stretched.

  
“I… better go home for the night,” they say. Martin nods, but watching Jon stretch has brought up a question.

  
“Jon?”

  
“Yes Martin?” Martin realizes that the bluntness was not as prominent now. It had almost disappeared entirely. Maybe it wasn’t even something Jon noticed they did.

  
“How…” Martin hesitated. Sure they had just had the most heartfelt conversation with their boss ever, and probably would be one of the only ones, but would this be overstepping the line? “Do you- you’re taking breaks from binding right?”

  
Jon stopped stretching and slowly turned to Martin, a guilty look on their face. Martin already knows the answer.

  
“Jon!!” Martin scolds.

  
Jon winced a bit. “I- I’m trying to?” he said.

  
_“Are you?”_

  
Jon seems to struggle with their words. “I’m… trying to remember. But there are some days that I lose track-”

  
“You can’t do that Jon!”

  
“I know bu-”

  
“Your daily tea is now coming with a personal message from yours truly to stretch and take your binder off _as soon as you get home._ ” He says the words quickly, honestly a bit nervous, unsure of how Jon would respond. Martin expected exasperation, possibly even anger, but instead that small smile is back.

  
“Alright, Martin.”

  
Martin doesn’t think he’s ever heard Jon sound as happy as they do now, and he would do anything to hear his voice with this audibly fond smile every day for the rest of their life. It’s too late at night to really unpack what that means though.

His exhaustion hits him like a tidal wave, and he yawns.

  
“Goodnight, Martin,” Jon says, voice barely above a whisper, as they turn to leave.

  
“Goodnight, Jon.”

He sits there, alone but contented, maybe still a bit shocked over everything that has just happened. Then he notices a faint whistling.

Shit, the tea-

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot stress how self indulgent this is this probably isn't accurate to their characters but that is because I projected my entire being onto both of them
> 
> this is the first time i've ever written and posted a fic so hopefully it's ok and there aren't too many errors :)
> 
> this was partially written as a reminder to myself to take breaks from binding so make sure to take a break from binding every once and a while <333


End file.
